


Prepare for War

by notaboogeyman



Category: American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaboogeyman/pseuds/notaboogeyman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU fiction where Violet works at a collections agency. Violet gets a call from a disgruntled Tate who refused to pay his bills, even though he is an established business man. Violet's manager pushes her to claim the file and work Tate to the bone. Rated M for sexual scenes in later chapters and drug use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Greetings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, welcome to my new story. I've been suffering from the worst writer's block and I've just started to write again. I actually work at a collections agency, so I thought it would be fitting since we've all heard the saying "write what you know." 
> 
> Constructive criticism/reviews are always greatly appreciated!

Violet trudged off to work, sighing as she tucked her iPod into her workbag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes along with a zippo lighter. She sparked a smoke and started walking towards the office building where she spent most of her days in a living hell.

After she finished high school, Ben and Vivian deemed it necessary for Violet to find a full-time job and get a taste of independence. Naïve and determined, she browsed endlessly through the listings on Craigslist until she found something that required no qualifications or experience. She landed a job at LA Accounts Recovery, a collections agency.

She survived the first week of training where they reviewed calls from senior collectors, learned how to analyze credit reports, how to deal with consumers going bankrupt, how to refer consumers to high risk loan sharks, and on and on. Her trainer, Cher, was a fifty-something-year-old with greying hair and a lazy eye. Training was awful, not only because Violet never knew which of Cher’s eyes to look at, but also because her trainer drank from a coffee mug that had three little kittens on the front.

Today was like any other day; Violet would arrive outside the office at 7:45 a.m. with bleary eyes, clutching a cigarette between two fingers. She would make small talk with the other collectors outside and then she would walk in and get her computer started.

She got her first call of the day as soon as she had punched in on the computer and logged on to the system. The phone rang three times before she decided to answer.

Violet Harmon with LA Accounts Recovery, how can I help you?” This script was practically engraved into her soul. She might as well have it written on her tombstone.

“Hi there,” A gruff voice spoke, the man sounding as if he had just been ripped from his slumber, “I keep getting calls from you people and I’d like to know what this is about.”

Violet loved when consumers referred to her as _you people_ , it was a classic, passive-aggressive statement.

“Sure, what was the phone number we called you at?” Violet replied.

“You can’t see it on your call display?” The man replied, clearly becoming agitated.

Violet stopped herself before her eyes rolled into oblivion. “No. You’re calling from a blocked number. If I could get your telephone number, I’ll try to look it up on the system”

The man slurred a string of unintelligible digits, making Violet’s fingers scramble on the keyboard.

“Let’s try that again, but slower this time.” Violet kept her composure, speaking with a monotonous tone like she always used with consumers.

The man sighed, repeating his number again, slowly like Violet had requested.

Violet typed his number in and waited until the files loaded on the screen.

“It seems like we have an account for a Tate Langdon. Is this you?”

Another sigh from the man. “Yeah, that’s me.” His voice became weary.

Violet began another script. “Well, it looks as if there is an outstanding balance under your name that has come into the office. Seems like you received twenty-five parking fines under your name.”

“Well, I do declare.” The man spoke, mimicking a southern accent. 

“Before I discuss the details of your account, I need you to verify your middle initial.” Violet spoke again, drumming her impatient fingers on the computer desk.

“Listen, Violet is it?” The man continued when he heard Violet’s affirmation, “I know all about these tickets, save your breath. I have no intentions of paying this account. I’m going to leave it here in your office for sentimental reasons.”

Violet was practically grinning as the man spoke, she loved dealing with feisty consumers, and she was preparing to rip this guy a new one.

“Listen to me Tate. Parking fines don’t just go away, they will sit here in collections and rot. If you don’t have any intentions of paying this amount, that’s fine, but I will be giving my recommendations to the City of Los Angeles, and you will be placed upon a tow order.” Violet kept her voice monotone and crossed her arms together once she finished her speech, waiting for this Tate guy to counter back.

There was a momentary pause followed by a breathy chuckle on the other end of the line that made Violet’s flesh break out in goose bumps. She hated to admit that this asshole sounded attractive.

“Listen princess,” Tate sounded like he was preparing her for a lecture, “I know all about parking tickets. Why would I pay this account when I could easily change my license plate for fifteen bucks and avoid the tow order completely?”

“If you want to willfully evade these tickets, that’s fine. However, we will be calling you each and every day until you decide to resolve these accounts.” Violet snapped, shifting in her seat from impatience.

She looked up and noticed her friend Samuel was grinning at her from his cubicle. He mouthed the words _need any help?_ Violet shook her head as she waited for Tate’s response.

“Well, as long as the calls are coming from you, I can’t complain,” Tate chuckled, “I imagine you being a feisty little blonde.”

“How is this relevant to your account?” Violet asked, growing uncomfortable.

“How old are you?” Tate replied, his voice became raspy and Violet swore she heard a zipper being lowered. Moments later, she heard a groan escape from the man’s lips.

Violet slammed her phone down on to the receiver and let out a noise of distaste, startling her surrounding co-workers and making her manager glance up from his desk.

“Long day at the office?” Samuel asked, raising his eyebrows.

“That fucker used my voice as a masturbatory tool.” Violet gritted the words through her teeth.

“Such swine.” Samuel shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee as he flipped through the files on his desk.

Violet leaned back into her chair, groaning as she rubbed at her eyes. After a few minutes she leaned forwards and began to type out notes into this guys file, omitting the part where he mistook Violet for a phone sex operator. Once she had finished writing the details of their conversation, she statused the file as _No Intentions to Pay._

Naturally, Violet’s manager decided to pull her aside before she had the chance to step out for a coffee break.

“Was that Tate Langdon you spoke with?” Her manager, Patrick asked.

Violet felt her cheeks flush and nodded an affirmation, not trusting her voice.

“I need you to keep his file on your desk—“ Patrick started, but was interrupted when Violet barked out a response.

“That man has _no_ intentions to pay!” Violet cried out, “He’s experienced with this kind of stuff and he knows all about the license plate trick.”

“Which is exactly why you need to pin him down,” Patrick replied, “I’m quite familiar with this consumer; he owns Red Arrow Performance which is a company all about acquiring high end collector vehicles, and, get this, the guy even owns a car dealership on the side.”

“Well, that fucker certainly has enough money to pay off his bills.” Violet shook her head and crossed her arms.

“The City of Los Angeles knows all about this consumer as well, and they’re just itching to tow his fancy sports car,” Patrick grinned, “So, if you’re able to work the file and either have him pay it off or have him towed, say hello to the raise you’ve been bitching about.”

Violet grinned from ear to ear, giving her manager a wink before heading outside for a well deserved cigarette.

 


	2. Coffee Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying! Don't forget to review :)

When Violet arrived at the office the next day, she had to admit that there was a slight spring in her step. If all went well and she worked Tate’s file to death, she would be greeted with a generous raise and paid lunch breaks.

Violet plopped down on her chair and set to work, she took a sip of coffee and put on her headset. Violet started humming a random tune as her computer loaded, feeling confident that she could get into Tate’s head. If there were to be one positive thing about being a bill collector, it would have to be the art of manipulative, which Violet had mastered. Her manager Patrick knew she was a natural from the start.

Samuel raised his eyebrows as he took in Violet’s strange behavior.

“You’re humming.” Samuel took a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Violet’s.

Violet furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head. “And?” She asked.

Samuel stared at Violet for a few moments; taking in her long blonde hair, her chiffon blouse that was tucked into a black pencil skirt. Samuel glanced down and noticed that her lips were glazed with a pink gloss, accentuating her smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re plotting, but don’t get me involved. I was damn near stripped of my license last time, if you recall.” Samuel eyed her wearily.

Violet grinned and looked back at her computer, humming _Eye of the Tiger_ under her breath.

“I feel like a storm’s a-brewing.” Samuel said, shaking his head with a chuckle.

 

*******

 

Naturally, the day dragged on and Violet found herself looking at the clock every minute, silently cursing herself for doing so. Her nails were chewed down to jagged stubs, a nervous habit that she coincidentally developed once she started working in collections.

Violet glanced up from her computer and noticed that Samuel was talking to their coworker, Ryan, a blonde who had as many brain cells as there were letters in his first name. Violet was sure that when Ryan died, the coroner would discover a dead hamster on a wheel in place of his brain.

She chuckled at the thought and in turn, she received a look from both men.

“You okay?” Samuel asked, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Violet replied.

“You cool?” Ryan asked.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m chill as a cucumber.”

“Wrong expression,” Samuel started to banter, “But yeah, you’re _cool_ as a cucumber.”

“No, I’m chill as a cucumber. You know, cause cucumbers _chill_ in the fridge.” Violet kept her stance.

“Yeah, okay, Miss Oxford English major.” Samuel retorted, grinning from ear to ear. Violet groaned in frustration. She had made a mistake by telling Samuel about her English studies and now she was viewed as a pretentious “English Major” from then on.

 

*******

 

Violet had about thirty minutes left of work when she decided to browse through Tate’s file in order to see what she was up against.

Of course, there were numerous note lines in the file, documenting a few years of unsuccessful attempts from previous collectors. Violet saw that Tate was prone to hanging up on collectors and had been evading this account since it was placed in the office.

With a sigh she decided to call him again. Violet reasoned that if she wasn’t able to have him pay within two more attempts of contact, she would place the fucker on a tow order and greet her raise with open arms.

The phone only rang twice when Tate answered, catching Violet off guard.

“Tate Langdon speaking.” His voice gave an air of professionalism, no longer raspy or taunting.

Violet held her breath, resisting the urge to hang up. She would rather sew her head to the carpet than deal with being sexually harassed once again.

“Hello?” The voice came again, reminding Violet of her nagging task. 

“Hello – Hi, this is Violet with LA Accounts Recovery. If you have a moment, Mr. Langdon, I would like to discuss your account again.”

There was a chuckle from the other line that Violet had been expecting. She crossed her legs, clamping her thighs shut and gritting her teeth together.

“Hello princess, back for more?” The voice on the other end of the phone immediately took on a playful tone.

Violet ignored the flush that settled on her face and began again. 

“If I could get you to verify your date of birth, then I can open the details of the account for you.”

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing you’re willing to open up for me.” Tate replied, giving her a playful laugh.

“Sir, there are other 1-800 numbers for the type of matter that you’re looking for. My friend can recommend a nice Slovakian girl named Tatiana who wears all sorts of lingerie.” Violet couldn’t help but snap at Tate, she was growing impatient and wanted to close this file. Realizing what she said, Violet glanced up at her manager and saw that he was loosening his tie and getting ready to faint.

There were strict call regulations that every collector had to abide by and Violet felt that she might have put a toe over the line.

“What do you want?” Tate sighed, he sounded bored.

Violet smiled. She liked it when he became frustrated. This was familiar to her. She could concentrate when he wasn’t throwing around lewd statements.

“I’m thinking that you and I could come up with a mutual agreement that doesn’t involve a tow order.” Violet stated, twirling her pencil between her fingers as she waited for a reply.

“My birthday is April 24th, 1991”

Violet’s eyebrows flew straight up as she verified that the file did indeed have the same birthday listed as Tate’s. This kid was only a couple years older than her and he was already established at a well respected business?

“Perfect. I’d like to discuss a settlement offer with you. I’m willing to offer you fifty cents on the dollar to close out your account if you can pay off this settlement within thirty days.” Violet crossed her fingers, hoping that this sounded reasonable.

Another chuckle came from Tate, making Violet’s blood boil.

“So, in layman’s terms, instead of paying the full $1200 file, you’ll pay us $600 and we’ll close the file and walk away.” Violet continued her script, praying that Tate would reason with her.

Violet could almost hear the gears turning in Tate’s head as she sat in silence, waiting for him to answer.

“And how can I be assured that you won’t call me again, saying that I never paid off this amount fully?” Tate asked, sounding like he was deep in thought.

“We’ll provide you with a receipt of course,” Violet replied, trying to hide her excitement. “All of our calls are recorded, so if you feel that we didn’t hold up our end of the bargain, you can always call back and request that this call be pulled for review.”

“You know what, $600 still sounds pretty steep to me. Can you call me back when you have another offer?” With that, Tate hung up, leaving Violet to stew in her own shock.

Before Violet could comprehend what had just happened, her phone started to ring again. She answered it only to hear Tate’s voice on the other end.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, I just felt like the last hang up wasn’t as satisfying as it could have been.” With that, Tate hung up on her for the second time that day.

Violet let out a small scream and snapped her pencil in two.

“Can I see you in my office?” Patrick’s voice startled Violet and she whirled around in her chair to see that he was standing behind her with a strained look on his face.

Violet sighed and trudged over to his desk.

“Dead girl walking.” Samuel called out from behind her.

  

*******

 

It was quarter after five when Violet’s shift ended and she had to restrain herself from clicking her heels together as she ran down the office floor to the front doors.

Patrick hadn’t been impressed when he pulled her in for a meeting. He reminder her of the rules and regulations and chastised Violet for letting her frustrations get in the way. Violet knew it was useless to explain her situation, because if Tate had made a complaint, she would have been in the wrong and her employment could have been jeopardized.

Violet turned her phone on and a flood of text messages bombarded her. All from Vivian of course, asking about her possible wage increase and what she wanted for dinner. Violet’s stomach growled, but she had promised to meet Gabe for a quick cup of joe at the Corner Bistro. Violet climbed in her car and threw her purse down on the passengers seat. She sat in the drivers seat for a moment, cherishing the few precious waking hours she had before her next shift tomorrow.

Fifteen minutes later, Violet opened the door to her favorite coffee shop; a jangle of bells greeted her entrance. She quickly scanned the room and realized Gabe hadn’t arrived yet, so she stood in line to order them both a vanilla latte. 

She seated herself in a two-person table at the back corner, which had become her and Gabe’s usual spot. It was always vacant, since customers enjoyed the sunny area at the front of the shop. This gave her privacy to bitch about her work life, coworkers, and other frustrations that Gabe always enjoyed listening to. He was a true friend, that guy.

To her frustration, two customers decided to occupy the table in front of her, blocking the view of the front door. She briefly glanced up and noticed a blonde man with wavy in his early twenties sat facing her. She focused her attention on the text message she was writing to Gabe.

 

Violet: _where r u?! latte’s r getting cold a-hole._

Gabe: _hey, sorry. running behind. 5-10 mins tops._

Violet sighed and took a sip of her coffee, letting the warm mug defrost her freezing cold fingers. She decided to take another glance at the blonde man and noticed that he was impeccably dressed. He was wearing a grey suit that was noticeably pressed, a black skinny tie that complimented his crisp dress shirt, and black leather dress shoes. Violet guessed that his outfit cost more than her second-hand car.

A few more minutes passed by and Violet was shifting in her seat from impatience. She couldn’t go for a cigarette because she couldn’t trust leaving Gabe’s latte unattended and with the caffeine swirling in her blood, she started to crave a smoke.

Violet’s ears perked up when the two customers in front of her started to have a noticeably heated debate. Violet started to eavesdrop and from what she heard, it seemed like the two men were business partners, fighting over some kind of acquisition. The brunette that sat with his back turned to Violet was refusing the idea that the blonde man had come up with, making both parties extremely irritated.

“You’re absolutely out of your mind. Your _father_ hired me as your right hand man to ensure that everything would run smoothly once he passed away, and now you’re going to fuck it up like this?” The brunette spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Listen to me, Frankie, there is no way we could lose with a deal like this, it’s all profit. We sell the fucking company and with the money, we expand. Just like we dreamed about when we were new to the business.” The blonde man spoke excitedly; he took a sip of his coffee after he finished, his eyes never leaving his partner’s.

“Tate, please think about what your father would’ve wanted and keep the business in the family name.”

Violet’s ears perked right up. There was no fucking way that this blonde was her consumer, the guy that she spoke with not even two hours ago. She resisted the urge to throw her piping hot coffee in his face and instead, she sat still and she listened.

Tate’s conversation carried on as Violet listened to his dreams of selling the company and becoming filthy rich. _And this man doesn’t have $600 to pay off parking ticket?_ That was the only thing running through Violet’s head and she refrained from shaking her head in disgust.

All of a sudden Tate stood up, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He took a final sip of his coffee and headed for the door, but not before giving his partner a dirty look.

Violet glanced down at Gabe’s latte and said fuck it. She pulled out a cigarette of her own and headed towards the door after Tate, not entirely sure of what she was going to do.

She found him leaning against a telephone pole beside a bus stop, taking long drags from his cigarette and letting the smoke swirl from his lips and into the chilly air before him. The sky was darkening and Violet pulled her coat against her body, trying to shield herself from the wind as she attempted to light her cigarette.

Violet flicked the lighter and the flame vanished, courtesy of the wind. About five tries later, Violet stamped her foot against the ground and started to mutter obscenities. Of course, she was too focused on lighting her cigarette to notice that she had caught Tate’s attention.

The man smirked as he approached Violet, pulling out a silver Zippo and lighting her cigarette on the first try.

“Thanks.” Violet muttered, looking up at the man in front of her.

Tate grinned, revealing a row of perfect teeth that happened to form a knee-buckling smile. Violet wanted to scream out her frustrations because this guy was definitely as attractive as he sounded on the phone.

“Waiting for the bus?” Tate began with some small talk, tilting his head as he waited for a response.

Violet had a car of her own, of course, but she lied in order to keep the conversation going.

“Unfortunately. The car broke down just this morning, actually.” Violet took a drag from her smoke and exhaled through pursed lips.

Tate gave her a sympathetic smile and a nod. “That’s unfortunate," Tate replied "I do manage a car dealership, however.”

Violet smiled. “Does your company accept financing?”

“Yes ma’am.” Tate grinned. He reached into his suit pocket and produced a business card.

Violet reached out for the card and felt a throb in between her thighs when Tate’s fingers grazed against hers. Jesus, she refused to believe the effect that he was having on her.

“Please, call any time if you have inquires. Our website is listed on the back and I’m sure you’ll find something that piques your interest.” Tate smiled, trying to make eye contact with Violet.

Violet looked up and gave him a curt smile. She was torn between kneeing him in the balls or assaulting his stupid mouth with her lips. In that moment, she hated herself for thinking of the latter even for a split second.

“I’m off work early on Friday. If you’re available, I’d like to arrange an appointment?” Violet’s reply shocked her. She knew she had no intentions of financing a vehicle and now she was entering dangerous territory by conversing with a consumer outside of work.

Tate’s smile came easily. “Does four o’clock work?”

“That’s perfect, actually.” Violet replied, giving him a grin.

Was she really letting herself flirt with him? This had to be a new low.

“Well, I have more business to attend to,” Tate dropped his cigarette and crushed it with the tip of his shoe. “Nice to meet you—”

Violet panicked. If she said her real name, she would have her collector’s license revoked so fast that her hair would blow back.

“Moira.” Violet replied, hiding her panic with a tight-lipped smile. “And you are?”

“Tate Langdon. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Violet detected a slight southern accent.

Tate stretched his arm out and Violet placed her smaller hand into the grasp of his larger one, taking note of the ring on his thumb. Her heart started to flutter when she realized that he was holding on to her hand longer than a normal handshake allows.

“Friday at four o’clock.” Tate said, confirming their arrangement. With that, he let go of Violet’s hand and started to walk down the sidewalk.

Violet silently cursed herself for letting this guy fuck around with her not once, not twice, but _three_ times today.

 


	3. Business

As soon as Violet’s alarm had gone off in the morning, she had already started to formulate a plan. There was a nagging voice in her head that told her to call in quits, to send the tow letter off to Tate and call it even. However, Violet was never the one to listen to her own logic.

 

The whole time she got ready for work, she mulled over the idea. She would let Patrick know eventually, of course, but for now she didn’t need the distraction. Naturally, Patrick would fly off the handle but she knew he would come around and support her idea. They were partners in crime, those two.

 

Violet had cancelled plans with Gabe just before he reached the coffee house so she could go home and browse the vehicles that Tate had in his inventory. She needed to be knowledgeable, but she also needed to sound like she really needed his expertise.

 

Violet reasoned that if she were to befriend Tate and find out where he usually parked his vehicles, she could send in a personal recommendation to the City of Los Angeles, telling them exactly where his fancy sports cars were located. Tate wouldn’t know what had hit him. Not only would he have to pay off the impound fees, but he would need to pay off his parking tickets, unless he wanted to be towed over and over again.

 

When Violet reached her office, she practically marched to her desk and set to work. She didn’t want to call Tate today because she knew he would recognize her voice right off the bat. Instead, she searched his name in the database to see if she could dig up any more dirt.

 

That’s when Violet hit the jackpot.

 

There was an American Express file that had over $10,000 owning on the account. Violet skimmed through the note lines and saw that Tate had used stall tactics on each collector he came in contact with until they completely gave up on the account. It seemed like all efforts had been exhausted, which meant that legal action could be taken.

 

Violet began to formulate another idea. She needed to befriend this guy, of course, but now it was looking like she needed to spy on him. In order to sue this file, Violet would need to figure out if he owns his home and what sort of annual income Tate was making.

 

Violet could feel the excitement bubbling up in her chest. If she was able to acquire the evidence needed to sue, and legal action was taken, she would be able to rake in $4000 from the file, which would go straight to her own pocket. Not to mention her generous raise, paid lunch breaks, and maybe even a desk of her own.

 

Violet locked her computer and walked up to Patrick’s desk. She was grinning from ear to ear, waiting for him to notice her.

 

When Patrick finally looked up, he gave Violet a double take once he noticed the shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

 

Patrick immediately raised his index finger towards Violet.

 

“No. Whatever it is, no.” Patrick said, waving his finger in the air.

 

“What are you and Chad doing on Saturday?” Violet asked, still grinning.

 

Patrick furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair.

 

“We’re not doing anything,” Patrick replied, still giving her a quizzical look. “Why? What are you doing?”

 

“Having dinner and wine with you and Chad.” Violet replied before she turned back to her desk.

 

“Well that was presumptuous!” Patrick called after her.

 

“Make sure you have the Riesling wine that I like!” Violet replied, giving Patrick a wink before she went back to her work.

 

 

*******

 

After Violet’s lunch break, she headed back to her desk with a cup of coffee in hand, mentally calculating the hours she had left until she was free.

 

Before her ass had the chance to get acquainted with her seat, Samuel popped his head over the top of her cubicle.

 

“There’s a call for you, should I transfer it?”

 

“Give me a second,” Violet replied, her mouth full of croissant.

 

She quickly logged into the system and picked up her phone. 

 

“Do you have the account number?” Violet asked.

 

“It’s gonna be a blind transfer.” Samuel informed her.

 

Violet nodded and pressed the first line on the receiver, connecting her to the call.

 

“Violet Harmon speaking, how can I help you?”                                                                                                                                            

 

Violet heard a sharp intake of breath from the other line, followed by complete silence.

 

“Hello?” Violet spoke again, furrowing her eyebrows. “It would help if you said something.” She added, growing impatient.

 

When the person on the other end finally spoke, Violet swore that her lungs deflated.

 

“Hello princess, do you have time for me?”

 

Tate _fucking_ Langdon. She should have guessed.

 

Violet muted the phone for a second, clearing her throat as she tried to put on a different voice, something that Tate wouldn’t recognize.

 

“I suppose I do.” Violet sighed as she started to look for Tate’s file on her database.

 

She decided that she would put a slight southern twang to mask her usual speaking voice, praying that he wouldn’t take note of it.

 

“May we start with your date of birth, Mr. Langdon?” Violet asked once she found Tate’s file.

 

Tate chuckled. “I like it when you call me mister.”

 

“Sir, if you’re not wanting to talk business, then there’s no reason for—”

 

“It’s even sexier when you call me sir,” Tate let out a breathy chuckle. “See, I get this image of you blindfolded on my bed, over my lap, waiting for—”

 

“I take it that Tatiana didn’t want to speak with you?” Violet interrupted, silently thanking her voice for not shaking, even though her core started to throb with need. Her eyes were practically glazing over with lust and she found that she hated herself for letting his words affect her so much.

 

“Why would I dial a sex line in order to talk to some broad claiming to be a Slovakian girl, when in reality I’m probably connected with a three times divorced 40 year old woman who has a gross mole on her nose that’s sprouted hair?” Tate started to laugh at the scenario he painted for Violet.

 

Violet rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that plastered itself onto her face. _He could be an asshole, but at least the guy was witty._

 

Violet silently chastised her lack of self-control when she let out a laugh. The last thing Violet needed was for Tate to think that she condoned his obnoxious, not to mention sexist, behavior.

 

“Well, you never know, I could very well look like that three times divorced 40 year old broad.” Violet retorted, biting her lip to conceal her smile when she heard Tate snort from the other line.

 

“I severely doubt that,” Tate replied. “You’re probably this gorgeous eighteen year old—“

 

“Nineteen year old.” Violet corrected.

 

Tate chuckled. “ _Sorry._ A gorgeous _nineteen_ year old.”

 

“I’m sure you’re not bad yourself,” Violet replied hastily, trying to get back to business. She cringed when she thought of her upcoming call reviews; she silently prayed that Patrick wouldn’t pull this call.

 

“Now if we could continue, I still need your date of birth.” Violet said, taking on her monotonous tone once again.

 

“I never noticed that you have a southern twang,” Tate ignored her question. “Where did you live before LA?” Tate asked.

 

 _Shit, shit, shit._ Violet bit her lip, her fingers scrambled to pull up a map of Louisiana on Google.

 

“Louisiana.” Violet replied, stumbling.

 

“What area?”

 

Violet pulled up a map, quickly scanning the cities.

 

“My family and I came from Lafayette.” Violet replied, furrowing her brows, hoping that Tate would just drop the subject.

  
“Great gator gumbo, hey?” Violet could hear the smile in his tone.

 

“ _Fantastic,_ actually.” Violet laughed, “Now if we could continue, I’m still needing you to verify your date of birth.”

 

“I wasn’t calling about my account princess,” Tate snorted with laughed on the other line, “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

 

With that, the other line dead, leaving Violet to worry her bottom lip with her top teeth.

 

“ _Fuck._ ” Violet sighed, disappointed in herself.

 

Violet shook off the nagging feeling that she was losing this battle and put her game face on. She would let Tate think that he has the control over the situation, while her real intentions played in the shadows. She would pretend to be the naïve, up-tight collection agent when Tate called, she would hide her cunning mastermind and allow Tate to slip into a false sense a security. Tate would become smug and believe that he holds the cards, when really, Violet was the dealer.

 

She would have him right where she wanted him by tomorrow evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violet is definitely getting crafty, and it seems like poor Tate is too wrapped up with lust to notice a devious plan forming against him. 
> 
> Make sure to send me feed back, it's the fuel to my writing :) xxo


	4. The Appointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long for an update, i really wanted this chapter to be thorough and on point. hope you enjoy, don't forget to send me feedback... i'd love to know what you think is going to happen! xxo :)

When the clock hit two-thirty, Violet immediately logged off her computer and punched out for the day. She breezed past Patrick and Samuel without so much as a word, earning her strange looks from both men.

 

Naturally, her stomach had been a tangle of nerves all day and Violet had started to seriously second-guess herself. Who was she kidding, really? She wasn’t a federal agent or an under cover detective. She was a bored nineteen year old that just wanted a raise and some recognition. There were some serious implications that were bound to happen if Tate discovered who she really was.

 

Violet would be stripped of her collection licenses; there was a possibility of a fraud charge and prison time, not to mention the heavy fine that she would be slapped with.

 

Patrick would kill her, slowly. He’d probably strangle Violet with his bare hands, and then resuscitate her, only to kill her again. He entrusted Violet with a lot of responsibilities and he truly cared for her. Patrick was a fantastic friend and a kind manager. If she fucked this up, she would be putting his employment at risk. Chad and Patrick would have to say goodbye to their dreams of buying and flipping a house like they always talked about doing during dinner conversations.

 

It was a foolish thing to do. It was a selfish, idiotic thing to put others through.

 

So, Violet drove home with the intentions of picking out an outfit to wear for her appointment with Tate. Along the drive home, Violet waved goodbye to any remnants of logic and common sense that she once thought she had.

 

She would be careful. No one would get caught and Tate wouldn’t be any the wiser. She would keep him right under her heel, doped up with lust.

 

Sure, Tate was an intellectual, a brilliant business partner, but he’s only just a man. Violet knew that sex, even the mention of it, could bring the most powerful men down to their knees. So, she would manipulate his emotions, control their encounters, and use her collection tactics against Tate. By the time Violet was through with him, Tate would be working in Alaska.

 

When Violet reached the house, she swerved onto her driveway, the crunch of gravel announcing her arrival. She quickly turned off the ignition, grabbed her purse and rushed into the house. When Violet walked past the kitchen, she saw that her mother was cooking up a storm. The counter was a mess of chicken, tomatoes, and cheese; the scent of garlic was thick and overwhelming.

 

“Hi sweetheart, can I set a place for you?” Vivian gave her a warm smile.

 

“No thanks mom, I’m meeting Chad and Patrick for some lunch.” Violet lied, and with that she left her mother standing alone in the kitchen as she bustled up the stairs to her room.

 

She passed her father’s study on the way; she glanced in and noticed that he was immersed in his studies as per usual. Violet didn’t bother saying hi, she still needed to shower, pick out an outfit and make herself presentable. If she said anything, Ben would start going off about the down right disturbing psychosexual theories that Sigmund Freud once pondered and she really didn’t need to hear about some depraved fantasies that this psychologist used to drone on about.

 

Once she reached her room she shut the door and quickly turned on the shower in her on suite bathroom. She paced around the room, getting out her makeup and lotions, shedding her clothes off along the way. Once she was in the shower, she stood under the nozzle, letting her stress roll off her body along with the water. Violet was still a mess of nerves, but she was in it for the long haul and she refused to walk away now. She imagined how she would seduce Tate; images of the serpent, the Garden of Eden, and a crisp red apple came to mind.

 

Violet thought of herself as this brilliant snake, the embodiment of lust, with a cunning mind and a silver tongue, when really, she knew that she would be a fumbling, bumbling awkward mess the whole time. Violet wished she felt as confidence as she pretended to be.

 

It couldn’t be that hard. She would flash a little thigh, laugh at his dumb jokes and let her suggestive language and mannerisms do the talking.

 

Once Violet had dried off, she threw a robe over her body and rushed to her closet. She needed to make a lasting impression and more importantly, she needed to keep Tate on the tips of his toes.  In the end, she picked out a black skirt, black thigh high stockings and a rich purple colored top that hit just below her waist. She chose to wear her oxford heels, which she thought would compliment her outfit, if she could keep herself from falling over. Violet chose delicate gold jewelry to embellish her wardrobe; she slipped on a few rings and topped everything off with a long necklace that hit just below her breasts.

 

Violet didn’t bother with a lot of makeup; she chose a nude colored lipstick and put on a few coats of mascara and finished everything off with a few strokes of blush applied to the tops of her cheekbones.

 

She checked her phone and saw that she had about forty-five minutes until her appointment with Tate. Tate’s business was about a half hour drive away from her house and if she left quickly, she would have time for some coffee. She quickly turned on her laptop and found Tate’s website under her bookmarks. Violet wrote down the vehicle make she was looking to “finance” on Tate’s business card and tucked the slip of paper into her wallet. She grabbed her cigarettes, lighter, and her car keys and threw everything into her purse. Violet made sure to spritz herself with some perfume before she retreated downstairs. When she reached the kitchen, Violet saw that their housekeeper, Moira, was cooking over the stove in place of her mother.

 

“Can you tell them that I’ll be back later this evening?” Violet asked, with one had on the front door’s handle.

 

Moira turned and gave Violet a small smile as she twisted a dishrag in both of her hands.

 

“Don’t get too caught up with your rendezvous.” Moira replied, turning to resume her work, but not before giving Violet a look that suggested that she was all knowing.

 

Violet bit her lip nervously and swung the front door open, making a hasty exit.

 

 

*******

Violet reached the dealership with about twenty-minutes to spare. To her dismay, she hit all the green lights on the drive over. Violet needed to befriend this guy, and if she didn’t leave a lasting impression, there would be no opportunity to spy on him. Violet realized that she had no battle plans to employ and now it seemed like she would just have to waltz in and expect this rich man to be blown away by her character. Violet had to stop herself from laughing out loud at the position she got herself into.

 

Violet decided to park her car in the strip mall near the dealership since she couldn’t drive to Tate’s business pretending that she needed a vehicle. Violet got out of her car and leaned against the driver’s side as she sparked a cigarette. Even though she had fifteen minutes to kill, she decided against going to Starbucks. The sad truth was Violet was extremely caffeine sensitive and if she had coffee now, her heart would be racing and she would be even more nervous for her appointment with Tate. 

 

Violet pulled her phone out of her purse and saw that she had ten minutes before her appointment, so she dropped her cigarette on the ground and crushed it out with her foot. She spritzed more perfume on and decided to make the walk over to the car dealership.

 

When she swung open the large glass doors of the business, she had about five minutes before the appointment. Violet made herself known to the receptionist at the front and was told to take a seat off to the side. Violet made herself comfortable and pulled out her phone so she could answer a few work emails while she waited.

 

“Did you want anything to drink, hun?” The lady at the reception asked. “We have coffee, tea, water?”

 

Before Violet could reply, she saw Tate round the corner.

 

“We also have bourbon, vodka, rye…” Tate added, grinning at Violet.

 

“Just ignore him,” The receptionist laughed. “He’s quite the eavesdropper.”

 

“Your words lack conviction.” Tate winked at his receptionist.  

 

Violet stood up from her seat and smoothed her hands over the front of her skirt, making sure that she hadn’t accidently flashed anyone. She smiled politely and extended her hand when Tate started to approach her.

 

Being the smooth, southern gentleman he was, Tate clasped Violet’s hand and drew it towards his lips, planting a small kiss. Violet refrained from gagging.

 

“Lovely to see you again, Moira.” Tate smiled.

 

“Charmed.” Violet said, trying to withhold the contempt that threatened her expression.

 

“This way to my office.” Tate smiled as he gestured for Violet to take the lead.

 

Violet led them both to a large, glass staircase and she couldn’t help but admire how palatial the dealership was. _Maybe I started off in the wrong line of business_ , Violet started to wonder.

 

When they reached the second floor, Violet took a moment to admire the artwork hung against the walls, not to mention the great view of LA that spread itself in front of her eyes.

 

“It’s nothing during the day,” Tate said, noticing how Violet was practically gaping at the landscape in front of her.

 

“Really?” Violet asked, not bothering to face Tate as she continued to admire the view.

 

“You should see it at night.” Tate added, there was smugness in his tone. Violet whirled around and was greeted with smirk.  There was a heat that started to radiate from Violet’s face and she silent prayed that her cheeks weren’t the color of tomatoes.

 

“A man of many rendezvous’, are we?” Violet gave herself a mental high-five when she kept her voice from shaking. 

 

Tate didn’t blush, but she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down even though he maintained a casual expression. 

 

“I’m not the type to kiss and tell.” Tate explained, chuckling as he scratched at the back of his neck.

 

“Shall we?” Violet asked, wanting to get on with the meeting.

 

“This way,” Tate gestured to an open door down the hallway. They started walking, leaving the view of LA behind. Violet was keen to observe every minute detail; the wainscoting that lined the walls, the plush rug underneath her heels, everything looked like it cost a fortune and Violet swore that the place even _smelled_ expensive.

 

When the couple arrived at Tate’s office, there was a twist of envy in Violet’s stomach that she couldn’t ignore. Behind Tate’s desk, there was a large window that showcased a gorgeous view of the mountains and the fucker even had a mini fridge, stocked with a variety of sparkling waters.

 

“Please, take a seat.” Tate gestured to the armchair that faced his desk.

 

Violet smiled and shrugged off her purse, setting it to the side of her chair before taking a seat. When she went to cross her legs, Violet made sure to subtly inch up her skirt so there was a good sliver of exposed skin where here tights ended and her skirt began.

 

“So!” Tate clapped his hands together and leaned forwards in his seat. “What exactly are you looking for?”

 

“A Volkswagen,” Violet smiled at the surprised look on Tate’s face. “A Jetta, to be precise.”

 

“Really? I always pictured you driving a Toyota.” Tate chuckled as he shuffled some paperwork around his desk.

 

“I do like the models that you have in stock, and Toyota’s are sturdy, but the interiors just look so _cheap_ to me.” Violet explained with a laugh.

 

“Looks like someone has been doing their research.” Tate chuckled.

 

“I like to be… _precise_ , if you will.” Violet giggled, silently crying on the inside when she let that girly laugh escape from her lips.

 

For good measure, Violet leaned forwards to expose her cleavage while she rummaged through her purse in order to produce the slip of paper that had the vehicle information written on it.

When Violet found the paper she quickly glanced up just in time to see Tate avert his gaze from her breasts towards the papers on his desk. Violet tried desperately to stifle the smirk that was itching to spread across her lips and instead she handed the piece of paper over to Tate with a casual expression.

 

Tate cleared his throat before speaking. “2014 Volkswagen Jetta Sedan. Four door, 6-speed Automatic with Triptronic.” Tate looked up from the piece of paper and smiled, he looked mildly impressed.

 

“I’m guessing you went on to our website?” Tate laughed at the annoyed expression of Violet’s face.

 

“I understand that you have a few in stock and I’m hoping to finance, if you could tell me what kind of payment plan we’re looking at?”

 

Violet hardly ever got tongue-tied and it was a great attribute that she picked up from working in collections. The only down fall is that she tended to sound so formal even during casual conversations with family and friends.

 

Tate smirked and reached for his calculator. “Well, it depends on the term you’re looking for. How many months would you need in order to pay off this vehicle?”

 

“Let’s go with 48 months. It could be less since my father is insisting on helping with the payments.” Violet smiled, “If you could give me a rough estimate, I’ll discuss the payments with my father later on.”

 

Violet held the sigh that was bubbling in her chest. She didn’t know how she would manage to talk herself out of this situation, seeing as there was no money in her bank account to finance a car at the moment.

 

When Tate was punching in numbers on his calculator, Violet decided that she would call him after a few days to decline the offer. She would make up some excuse, telling Tate that her father had leased a vehicle behind her back. Violet felt somewhat guilty that she was using Ben as a scapegoat, but it had to be done.

 

“Great. So, for a term of 48 months, you’re looking $289.70 per month. That’s an interest rate of seven percent. However, we would need a down payment of at least twenty-five hundred dollars.”

 

For a few moments, Violet watched Tate as he twirled his pen around.

 

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Violet smiled cheekily and she straightened herself up in her seat. “If you could write that down for me, I’ll go over the arrangements with my father tonight.”

 

“Your daddy seems like a helpful man.” Tate smiled as he began to write.

“He’s an inspiration.” Violet said, successfully hiding the sarcasm from her tone.

 

Once Tate had finished writing the payment information on his notepad, he folded the paper in half before handing it to Violet.

 

“Let me know if you have any other questions,” Tate smiled. “ Did you need another business card?”

 

“I believe I’m all set. I appreciate you taking the time out of your day.” Violet said, making sure sure that her tone sounded grateful.

 

Tate kept up with his gentlemanly persona and even made sure to escort Violet to the front door. When Violet reached the large glass doors she whirled around to give Tate one last handshake. She couldn’t understand why her heart was beating so frantically, seeing as she maintained such a calm appearance throughout the meeting. Violet was praying that Tate would ask her to go somewhere – tea, coffee, lunch, fucking _anything_ that would give her another opportunity to befriend him.

 

“Thanks again, I’m so excited.” Violet smiled. God, she hoped that she wasn’t going to start blabbing.

 

“It’s a great car, you’ll love it.” Tate chuckled, and there was that heartbreaking smile again. Violet found herself imagining what it would be like to nibble on that bottom lip; she wanted to hear Tate moan and sigh into her mouth. It would be the greatest victory, Violet decided. 

 

“You’ll be hearing from me in a couple of days, I’m sure.” Violet reached for Tate’s hand when she saw that he was going in for a handshake.

 

Maybe Tate was a constant flirt, but it seemed like he never understood how long to hold onto someone’s hand after the shaking part was done. It looked as if Tate was searching for something in Violet’s eyes. Was it dishonesty that he was looking for? Mutual attraction, maybe? She couldn’t be too sure.

 

“Listen,” Tate laughed nervously after he dropped Violet’s hand. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, there’s this great place called Jam Bistro and they serve some wicked lunch on Saturdays.”

 

Violet winced. She already had a lunch date with Chad and Patrick planned for tomorrow and there was no way she could miss it. Violet had already decided that she would cave and tell Patrick what she was up to, but only after he had a few glasses of Pinot Grigio pumping through his bloodstream.

 

“Tomorrow is a busy day for me,” Violet said. “How does Sunday brunch sound?”

 

“Brunch?” Tate sounded like he was pronouncing the word for the first time.

“I’m guessing you don’t rise from your coffin until noon?” Violet laughed, she couldn’t help but banter with Tate; it seemed to come so easily when she was with him.

 

Tate laughed harder than Violet expected. “Well, I mean if you had a silk lined coffin with satin pillows, you’d find it difficult to leave in the morning as well.”

 

Violet laughed out loud, making Tate smile widely.

 

“Brunch sounds just fine, Moira.”

 

Violet couldn’t help but wince when she heard that name. She thought of her housekeeper with that dead eye and that expression that knew all.

 

“Great,” Violet said. “Take my number and give me a text tomorrow to confirm.”   
  
“Yes Ma’am.” Tate grinned like a fool as he produced his iPhone from his pocket.

 

 

*******

When Violet finally reached her parking spot at the strip mall, she was grinning like a maniac and despite herself, she started to skip on the spot in excitement. Violet hopped up onto the hood of her car and sparked a cigarette, ignoring the strange looks that she received from a family that walked by. She decided that she needed to celebrate with good food, good company, and a lot of wine.

 

Naturally, her first instinct was to text Gabe.

 

_Violet: what’re you doing in an hour? how does wine and take-out sound??_

_Gabe: sure, what’re you thinking?_

_Violet: thai and some merlot?_

_Gabe: extra peanut sauce please. i’m bringing some movies over, get your laptop ready._

Violet smiled as she crushed out her cigarette. She walked silently to the driver’s side, unlocked the door and hopped in. She was about to start the ignition when she texted Gabe again as an afterthought.

 

_Violet: bring condoms, my parents have tickets to the opera tonight._

_Gabe: that was blunt._

_Violet: are you telling me that you don’t want to get laid?_

_Gabe: i just thought that it was awkward for you after that one time?_

_Violet: only because you needed a magnifying glass to find my clit you moron_

_Gabe: oh you’re gonna get it now_

Violet laughed and shook her head, throwing her phone on the passenger seat before starting her car. Gabe was a great friend; he listened to her whine about her troubles, he helped her when she needed him, and he was great for relieving her tension. Accidental sex sounded like a weird term because it wasn’t like Violet accidentally tore off Gabe’s clothes and spent a good hour riding his dick by mistake, but it sort of just happened. There was a lot of wine that night, the two of them were whining about something or the other and in an alcohol-fuelled haze, they found each other’s lips and once they started, they couldn’t stop. It was like the kind of frenzy that occurs when you drop a hunk of meat into a piranha tank.

 

Violet cringed as she recalled the morning after. The two of them were a fumbling mess when they realized what happened. Gabe had hopped out of Violet’s bed and frantically searched for his clothes while he profusely apologized to her. He kept saying things like _this is so weird_ and _we had too much wine_ and _please tell me this isn’t going to ruin things._

 

Violet laughed at the memory. The two of them were inseparable, really. She couldn’t wait to unload all of the details to Gabe, he would be excited for her, she was sure of it.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
